


Worthy

by MuggleMaybe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Body Image, Community: HPFT, F/M, Fluff, Harry Potter Next Generation, Next-Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 18:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7000405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuggleMaybe/pseuds/MuggleMaybe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose overcomes her insecurities as her romance with Scorpius begins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worthy

Scorpius swept his fingers along my jaw to my chin, sending a shiver up my spine, and pushed my face up, forcing me to look at him. 

Long lashes framed his stormy grey eyes, sparkling with intelligence and kindness and something inexplicable that almost looked like hunger. Electricity started in the pit of my stomach, heat rising into my chest and fingers and face, my cheeks flushing at his intensity. A combination of nerves and desire choked me, and for once Scorpius was the one who knew what to say.

“Rose, you are beautiful. There are so many other reasons. Your intelligence, your compassion, your laughter… But also your beauty.”

How could anyone, and Scorpius of all people, think I was beautiful? _He_ was the beautiful one. My eyes lingered on his lips, perfectly kissable, and a wave of panic went through me as his arm wrapped around my waist, hand resting on the small of my back, pulling me close.

Even through two layers of fabric, the feel of his body pressed against mine sent me reeling. He was solid and warm and perfect. It occurred to me that he could feel my body, too, the fat on my stomach especially, and I tried to latch onto the anxiety and the shame I always carried, but my thoughts were too scattered. My mind willed me to pull away, but some deeper force resisted. His eyes remained glued to mine and they were saying _please_.

Suddenly I couldn’t resist anymore. I raised myself on tiptoes, bringing my face to his, and he met me halfway.

Our first kiss was soft and sweet as a whisper – a butterfly’s wing – an eyelash on a cheek.

Our mouths parted after only a moment. He released a shuddering breath.

My hand found its way into his hair, fingers wrapping around blonde curls, pulling him back towards me. A wide grin lit his face. Then his lips captured mine once more, fiercely this time. A whole display of fireworks exploded in my chest, and the sensitivity and confidence and ravenous passion of his kiss surpassed anything I could ever have imagined.

 

An hour later – or maybe it was two hours – a crack of thunder and a sudden deluge of rain forced us to emerge from our mindless pleasure.

“Drat,” he muttered.

“We should probably go inside,” I said, without moving. We had shifted so that my back was against one of the greenhouse walls, and I couldn’t really see anything beyond Scorpius, making it awfully hard to concentrate. I ran my hands along his arms, trying to convince myself that he was really there, that the last few hours had really happened. I shook my head in disbelief.

Scorpius slid his arm around me and pulled me into his side, kissing the top of my head. “Come on Rosie, we’re getting soaked.”

I laughed – it was true – and let him lead me back towards the castle. We were quite a ways off, and by the time we reached the Heads’ chamber we were both drenched to the bone. I couldn’t help but notice the way the fabric clung to his muscular torso. _Damn_ he was fit. He followed my gaze as he joined me on the sofa and grinned when he saw what had caught my attention, blushing slightly. Luckily I wore a sweater, so my own body, utterly inadequate next to his, was still hidden.

“Let’s get you out of that jumper,” he said, “you’ll catch cold. Besides, you’re getting the cushions wet.”

Slowly, nervously, I pulled off my top, revealing my tummy and my pale pink bra. I bit my lip, fighting down nerves as I tried to make myself look at Scorpius. I was terrified of disgusting him with my body, and I kept my face pointing down. He got up, started a fire in the hearth with a wave of his wand, and hung my jumper on the mantle to dry. At least that’s what it sounded like he was doing. I was still struggling too much was self-consciousness to look at him properly.

“Rose,” he said, sitting beside me again, and I could hear the plea in his voice, asking me to trust him, to believe him. _Beautiful_ , he had said. It was impossible. Okay, maybe he had managed to find something likeable in my face, despite the freckles, but there was no way he could possibly find my body attractive. But, oh, I _wanted_ it to be true. He surprised me by taking my hands in his and bringing them to his dripping shirt hem.

“You can… I mean, if you want…”

Trembling like mad, I ran my fingers hesitantly along the soft skin near his hips – my stomach somersaulted wildly – and ever so slowly, I peeled the thin fabric off of him, swooning at the sight of his abs and chest. Finally I slid the shirt over his head, pulling a bit harder to get it off of his arms. My hands closed around his upper arms, and I felt the muscle twitch beneath my fingers. I squeezed his biceps. A small gasp left his lips. Then my hands were wandering over his chest, his back, his arms and neck. I relished the expression in his breath, trembling sighs and sudden intakes in response to my touch. He was so solid, so masculine, and yet soft. His skin burned my fingers, sending heat all through me. I was entranced.

He let me explore him uninterrupted for a bit. Then his hands came to my bare waist – they were so large they actually made me look sort of smallish – and my feelings burst wildly in my chest, battling one another. He was touching me, touching my stomach, and any minute he would realize how disgusting and fat I was. Any moment now he’d go running off in horror. And yet… no one had forced him to do it. Did that mean he actually, maybe, _wanted_ me? The way I had wanted him for so long? No, impossible. It couldn’t be. My head buzzed with shame and doubt, and also passion. Passion I had never before experienced. Because even the simple feeling of his hands on my bare skin was enough to make me ache with pleasure. I was overwhelmed, and in my confusion I dropped my hands from him, pulling away.

He looked up from my body, which unfortunately had been receiving his full attention, and his expression was one of concern.

“I’m sorry, Rose. I thought…” his voice drifted off.

“It’s okay. I just…” I gulped back my emotion, the hugeness of my feelings smothering my words. But I had to explain. I couldn’t have him blaming himself. “I don’t feel…” it was incredibly hard to say. I snuck a look up at his face, and he nodded in encouragement. “I don’t feel” – I gulped again – “worthy. Of you. Of this.” I gestured at his flawless body.

“Oh, Rose.” His voice broke. The sound drew my eyes back to his, and what I saw blew me away. As always, he was impossibly handsome, but the thing that made me gape was his expression. He was devastated. Utterly and completely laid to waste. I felt horribly guilty. I had never met to cause him any kind of sorrow, and now here I was watching a tear sneak down his cheek.

He wiped it impatiently away. “You are infuriating! Listen to me, Rose. You. Are. Beautiful. Beyond beautiful, really. And so” – he blushed bright red – “sexy, I can hardly stand it. Every moment I’m not touching you and looking at you is like torture. And you are worthy of it, a million times over.” He looked at me helplessly, and I bit my lip, unable to speak. “How can I get you to understand that?”

I reached toward him, and he closed his hands around mine. “I wish I could believe you,” I said, “but I can’t. I just can’t. I look in the mirror and all I see are flaws. And I try to see past them, I really do, but it is so hard, Scorp. So hard.”

He squeezed my hands, and for a while we sat in silence, at an impasse. I wanted him desperately, and he – apparently, unbelievably – wanted me. As a comfortable calm settled over us, I let that idea sink in. Scorpius thought I was beautiful. He thought I was _sexy_. My mind rebelled against the idea. It was ludicrous. _No_ , I forced my instinct down, _it was true_. He had made it abundantly clear that he fancied me. More than fancied me. And I was totally and utterly mad about him. And the only thing standing in our way was my shitty, unshakable feelings of worthlessness. If anything was absurd, it was that.

A smile spread slowly across my face. Maybe, just for one moment, I could pretend to believe him. I could pretend to be beautiful.

Scorp’s face has gone from concerned to curious. I admired him, all of him, and thought of his laugh, and our study sessions, and the way he joked with Albus, and him throwing me the quaffle during practice, and a million smiles and giggles and interesting thoughts we had exchanged over the years. I basked in his presence, the safe familiarity of it, and the building heat of his gaze.

“Well?” He ventured.

I cleared my throat, and my face was flushed, but I felt at peace. “ _You_ are beautiful, too, you know. Really, bloody beautiful. Flawless.” I grinned through my burning cheeks. “And so sexy I can hardly stand it.”

He gave a strangled laugh, and the next moment we were snogging again, our hands all over each other. I felt as if I literally glowed with joy, the satisfaction of holding him multiplied ten fold by the glorious feeling of being wanted. The doubting voice in my head tried to taint my happiness, but his pleasure was so evident that I easily dismissed it.

I don’t know when I ever felt so free.

**Author's Note:**

> J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. What a surprise! ;)
> 
> Just a tidbit of ScoRose fluff for you. Rather cliche, perhaps, but SO fun to write! Hope you enjoyed it! And, who ever you are - you are worthy, too!


End file.
